Owner	Pose
Helena Wayne	She should've known better, really she should have. Perhaps Helena was starting to feel too comfortable with this world's Gotham, or perhaps it was the date. Her birthday. Helena Wayne went shopping outside of her neighborhood tonight, looking for something simple. Cupcakes. And because it took two bags with everything else, she decided to take the subway. Six stops away she noticed the first two of them, recognizing their gang colors. By the time she got off at her stop there was a full dozen. Dammit. Yes, they all file off the train along with her. And just when she thinks it's all a big coincidence, it starts. "Hey there, mama. Pretty thing like you need walkin' home tonight?"
Cole Cash	Of course there are cameras in the station, and of course they have been dead for three months. It is Gotham, what did you expect? Which is why Cole is being a bad citizen and lighting a cigarette as he enters the platform. Not rush hour, so he shouldn't be bothering anyone. Probably. Surprisingly, there is a fair crowd on the platform, and not the good kind of crowd. A gang. The few late commuters also around are already retreating towards the closest exist, trying to go unobserved. No one is taking pictures, this is Gotham, not New York. Cole is armed, of course, but he figures so are half the thugs. Still, it is probably too early for them to go full Gotham crazy, so he keeps walking.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne is at that age when she looks anywhere from 17 to 27. She's wearing jeans and a brown leather jacket. Boots with riding heels. Purple blouse. Probably a bit too nice for this neighborhood. The gang fans out, loosely surrounding her. She decides how to play this. If she was in costume, of course, it would've been mostly over by now. Deep breath, slow exhale. A sigh. Helena was looking forward to the cupcakes tonight, too. A boot heel scrapes softly on the asphalt as her stance shifts, and she slowly lowers the groceries to the ground. "Boys, you really don't wanna do this tonight..." she begins. There's a long, slender commando knife in her boot but she leaves it. Maybe if she doesn't draw first, no one else will see the need for weapons. Both hands raise slowly into the air as she checks her peripheral vision. That's when someone grabs her right wrist from behind. "Bitch! You're coming with us, now!"
Cole Cash	Apparently it is not too early for Gotham crazy. Cole checks the timers for the subway, but they seem also busted. No sound of a train coming from either way. The voices of the gangers echo loudly on the quickly emptying station. No one is looking at him, because no one is stupid enough to get involved. Too early for Batman, he figures. Then he notices the brunette has a knife in her boot. Odd that. But too late for him to ask. Instead he grabs his cigarette and applies the lit part to the nape of the ganger grabbing Helena. That is Cole being annoyed and not going for a simple karate chop. The ganger yelps loudly, very undignified. "Oops, I really should look where I am going. Good evening, what is the best line to get to Harlow Bridge?"
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne isn't acting like a victim, either. That started when she set down the groceries instead of keeping them and trying to run for it. When the guy grabbed her wrist she didn't struggle or immediately try to free it, either. But neither one of them was expecting Cole. With that surprised yelp the ganger's grip relaxes on Helena's wrist. Welp, so much for a diplomatic solution. Helena's boot heel comes down hard on the guy's instep, left hand balling into a fist... fingers deliberately curling. A martial artist, then. Swinging it down sharply, the ganger goes limp when she smashes his privates. The others close up the circle. Quickly. "Harlow Bridge? Mister, you want the red line, about 3 more stops..." Helena offers, helpfully.
Cole Cash	"Great, I am in the right side of the station," replies Cole cheerfully. He turns to keep walking, but of course there are a couple gangers there, trying to glare intimidatingly. Cole seems not to realize and steps very close, then kicks one of them on the chest. The thug goes flying, hits a couple of his friends, and they all fall down on the rails. Without pausing, the blond man foot ends on the side of the second thug's knee. It snaps sideways with a horrifying crack. "You are not in the right side of the station, boy," he explains the now maimed (and screaming) mugger.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne isn't shy about a fight, either. Rather than waiting, she *launches* herself at one. It almost looks like a flying tackle, until the right cross to the jaw. Using her momentum, she pivots and catches another with a high sweep-kick. And so it begins. Helena's style is mixed, showing either a good education or a lot more experience than her youth would suggest. Smooth and efficient, her punches and kicks hit major pressure points and yet are non-lethal. She is also acrobatic, slipping into a neat walk-over when a block isn't quite enough. For all that, she takes a glancing blow here, rolling with a punch there.
Cole Cash	Cole has little chance to see Helena fighting because half of the thugs are pulling knives and chains and coming at him. He seems dangerous, now he has seriously injured one of the gangers. And... he is. The thugs really don't have a chance. The blonde man is too quick, and when he strikes, he hits with devastating force. Hard, brutal blows, the style the army special forces are trained to deliver. Non-lethal because he is not using weapons, although Helena probably can notice he has a handgun under his coat, and probably more concealed weapons. If he takes a couple punches is only because it allows him much more damaging counters. In less than ten seconds, most of the thugs are on the ground, some with broken jaws, noses and arms. And Cole is wondering where the rest went. The answer being Helena knocked them out. "Hmm, that was quick," he comments.
Helena Wayne	Helena Wayne eases slowly out of her ready-stance, the brunette breathing a bit heavily from the exertion. "Not exactly the way I'd planned on spending my...." That's when she notices that one of the gangers had the bad manners to fall on one of her grocery bags. Stepping over, she rolls him over with the toe of her boot and peeks into the bag. She makes a face, wrinkling her nose. "So much for the cupcakes." Helena mutters, giving the guy a swift kick in the ribs. Fingers run through long, black hair and she turns towards Cole, then. "Thanks for the help, by the way." At least she's not so arrogant that she says she could've handled it without him. Helena grew up on a world at war. She's not stupid. "There's a good coffee shop by the Harlow Bridge station. Least I could do is buy you a cup. I'm Helena, by the way."